Tuesday, May 21, 2013

hands

tight, angry, clenched into fists
callused from monkey bars
spread open wide as if receiving a gift
burnt from reaching for shooting stars

rough from a life of labor
clasped in an act of prayer
raised calling for the waiter
soft, stroking a daughter's hair

raising, shaking, tapping, typing
covered, criss-crossed in life lines
playing, punching, stretching, writing
yours fit perfectly in mine